


Toward Resolution

by AlternateCode



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 09:41:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15579093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlternateCode/pseuds/AlternateCode
Summary: After waking from a nightmare, Jamil considers his time with the Grandcypher crew and his goals.





	Toward Resolution

**Author's Note:**

> My piece for Crosswinds, a GBF Tarot Zine! (@gbf_tarot on twitter)
> 
> Jamil as the Six of Swords:
> 
> Upright: Regretful but necessary transition, rite of passage  
> Reversed: Cannot move on, carrying baggage

_He is a shadow. One whose purpose is to finally get revenge on those who destroyed his clan._

_And yet…_

_“MASTER!” Jamil yelled, voice breaking from the panic. He tried to slip from the enemy’s grasp while the scene before him unfolded, but to no avail. His hand reached out to the silhouette in front of him, skin grazing against the rough concrete._

_There, just a few yards away, was his beloved master. His captain. A person whose value to him lies on the same level as the princess. However, they weren't alone. A former Imperial Intelligence Bureau spy was there too….and they currently had their sword piercing right through Gran’s chest. The vibrant red liquid dripping from the tip of the blade had Jamil shaking with fear._

_His master glanced back at him, a slow and pained smile forming on his face. “Don't look at me like that. I'll be ok. Everything….will be….alright….”_

_Jamil could only look on in horror as Gran collapsed. The sound of their body hitting the ground echoed in his mind. His thoughts raced as he desperately scanned to find any signs of life. The captain's unmoving form that laid slumped on the floor was his greatest fear now realized. He had failed as a shadow._

_His gaze turned into a piercing glare as his eyes met with the former IIB officer’s. He couldn't make out any feature of their shadowed face except for dark eyes and a growing smug smile._

_“Whoops! I went too far didn't I? I didn't mean to kill them. Oh well,” they said, their tone callous, “but least this means that the naïve little girl won't be alone. She kept crying for me to leave you alone, but you know I can't do that.”_

_If looks could kill, the perpetrator would have been dead on the spot. The amount of anger that he felt, both at his enemy and himself, was all he needed to rip out of his captor’s clutches. He tore away and dashed across the open field, dagger ready and poised._

_The last thing he heard, was laughter...and a gunshot._

* * *

“ _Jamil_..!” 

He was awoken by a violent shake. Running on pure instinct and adrenaline, Jamil shot up with a start and pulled a knife from under his pillow. For a moment, his mind was still slightly out of focus from the sudden movement, but soon cleared up to realize he had a grip on one of Lyria’s arms while his other hand held his knife close to her throat. They remained frozen for several moments until Jamil quickly dropped the small weapon, a loud clatter resounding as it fell to the floor. He found himself frantically checking her skin, making sure he didn't accidentally cut her. Lyria’s eyes had a flicker of fear amidst their blue color. The assassin could feel her smaller body shaking in his grip.

Slipping out from under the bed sheets, he gently released his hold on her. “Forgive me, I didn't mean to frighten you.”

Maybe it was something about his concerned tone or just relief to see him snapping out of whatever trance he was in, but Lyria soon had a large smile on her face. Her stature became much more relaxed as she reassured him that she was fine.

Sometimes Lyria’s gentleness surprised him. She continued to one of the sweetest people he had ever had the honor of meeting. When they first met, Lyria didn't hesitate to help, even though it meant exposing who she was to her enemies. Since then she had shown him nothing but kindness, despite knowing what he has done.

“I know you don't like someone waking you up but you seemed to having a really bad nightmare!” Her smile faded into a look of worry, fingers fiddling the sides of her usual dress as she spoke.

Jamil peered down to meet her worried gaze. His thoughts flickered back to the dying body of the crew’s captain for a moment before he shook head, a futile attempt to rid himself of the nightmare.

He placed a hand on her head, stroking her soft blue hair. Jamil felt slight ease in doing so. Just a gesture to prove she's alive and safe after all; not a figment of his imagination or another dream.

“It's alright, Lyria. Thank you, you really helped me out,” he replied honestly, his smile going unnoticed as he moved away from her to throw on his cloak.

At his response, she merely gave a small nod before inquiring about his troubles. “That nightmare you had…. Was it about your clan?”

No, he realized, it wasn't. For the first time in a while, it wasn't the downfall of his clan in the past that had him tossing, but rather a possible future where the crew suffers. It never really dawned on him how much of an impact Lyria and the others have had on him. The choices he had made since first meeting them have changed from when he was on his own. His time with the Grandcypher and its crew was irreplaceable. They became important without him even noticing.

Jamil paused his steps, only his hands moved to tighten the straps that kept his armor in place. His fingers brushed the surface that was littered with scratches. Memories of training with his father lingered in the back of his mind. Would his father be proud of who he has become?

Nevertheless, he couldn't move on quite yet. Jamil promised himself and his father he'd succeed in his revenge. But must that include putting the crew in danger?

“No,” he answered the girl, “though it's fair to say it's just as bad. I'm fine thanks to you, but, if I may ask, what brings to my room?”

Surprise crossed her features, an embarrassed pink coloring her cheeks. She clearly forgot about her original intention following the startling experience of waking him up. “Gran asked me to see if you'd like to join us for breakfast.”

“I'd be honored.”

He followed the young girl past the kitchen to where they'd eat. Sunlight peeked through the windows of the ship, brightening up the dining room and adding to the lighthearted energy of the people within. The table was as clean as a table could be, with the tableware all laid out in preparation for breakfast. The crew was excitedly chatting about one thing or another from their places at the table. It was a morning like any other, a strong smell of what was likely to be pancakes hung in the air which meant breakfast would soon be ready.

Though that led to a more pressing concern: Katalina was not in the room.

“Excuse me,” Jamil began, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the everyone, “but who is in charge of breakfast today?”

Vyrn, at the mention of breakfast, happily flew over to him. “Morning, Jamil! You're just in time! It's Gran’s turn today.”

“I thought his is tomorrow. Isn't he in charge of cleaning up today? Katalina isn't here so I thought I'd ask.”

Apparently everyone else in the room had heard him because it wasn't hard to notice that everyone had gone seemingly pale. It seemed that his speculation was correct. Although, on a similar note, Gran wasn't there either. His seat was empty.

The assassin’s musings of their captain’s whereabouts were cut short by the surprising attacks of Io and Rackam. They each had one of his arms in their grasp and stared at him with desperation.

“Please go stop Katalina!”

And he did….not.

Jamil wasn't particularly in favor of finding himself on the other end of the woman's sword, but he didn't want to let the others down.

His eyes followed the knight as she scurried around the kitchen. It was hard to tell if she was struggling or had everything under control. He could offer her help and possibly alter her cooking when he wasn't looking. Doing so would be much more difficult than any assassination mission he has done. This was Katalina after all. Who knows what she already put in the pot, not to mention she's incredibly observant and vigilant.

“Good morning, Jamil! Do you think you can hand me that root we got at Siero’s last time?” she asked while keeping her focus on the what was likely a cookbook.

It was easy to know which root she was referring to as it once resulted in everyone collectively agreeing to go up to the top deck for some ‘air’. Not the best way start to a day. To be on the safe side, it'd be best to slip her something….safer.

He shifted through the spice rack, avoiding the deadly thing she requested, and handed her a relatively more harmless root in its stead. Thankfully, she didn't notice.

Jamil watched, mildly wary of what she was making as she seemed to forget about his existence. He didn't mind. Despite the lack of cooking skills, he respected how hard she tried.

Katalina was a force to be reckoned with. That much he knew. She was headstrong and knew what she had to do. She was dubious of him when they first met, but their shared love for cute things eventually helped spark conversations between them.

“Are you going to pursue the traitor when we arrive?”

The knight’s sudden question broke him out of his reverie.

“Yes.”

“I see,” she replied, “I do hope you find them, and we will help, but just be careful since I don't want Lyria getting hurt.”

Again, his mind dove straight back into his nightmare. One nightmare and he could feel the hesitation growing, the uncertainty of what he should be doing.

“Breakfast is almost ready! Do you mind telling Gran for me?” Katalina asked before pointing a finger upward. “He’s above deck.”

Once he reached the top deck, it didn't take long to spot Gran who appeared to be in a daze, leaning against the ship's side. Walking over, Jamil joined him in staring out into long stretches of blue that surrounded them.

“I am thinking of traveling on my own for a while,” the assassin spoke after a few moments

“....Somewhere in this vast sky, is my dad. I know he's out there, waiting for me,” Gran said, pausing to glance over at him, “and it's the same for you. So if you decide to leave and continue on this path, then we'll support you. Every night you stargaze, know that we’re out here supporting you.”

Jamil nodded and pressed a hand to his chest, savoring the warm feeling from Gran’s words. Katalina’s words made him hesitate but he knew he couldn't move forward until he got his revenge. The only thing that held him back was the worry he was developing for his friends here at the Grandcypher, but being told that they'd support him regardless and help bring him closer to his goal meant a lot.

At the very least he now knew who to look for. Someone inside his own clan. Clues could likely be found within his homeland, as well as the empire. The problem was the danger.

He couldn't give up his revenge but he didn't want to risk that his nightmare could become a reality. These nice people—his friends—don't deserve the risk of getting involved. Not to mention the risk of the empire getting their hands on them. They had a different dream, and shouldn't have to stop chasing it to help him. Especially, Gran.

Many people have come aboard this ship; come and gone, just like he will. If he succeeds then, maybe, the crew of the Grandcypher will welcome him back.

“Before you go,” Gran began, pushing away from the edge, a grin on his face, “let's go have breakfast, yeah?”

Jamil returned his friend’s expression with a soft smile of his own as he trailed alongside him. “Sounds good.”


End file.
